


I Think The Kids Are In Trouble

by RescueCloset



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RescueCloset/pseuds/RescueCloset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years after the end of the outbreak Nick and Ellis are still struggling. </p><p>Warnings: Depression, PTSD, suicide mention/suicide attempt(s)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think The Kids Are In Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Author: Anna 
> 
> Uuh, I always get nervous by posting fics but here goes!

The warm summer breeze travelled through the house, it started by the glass doors in the living room but seemed to have turned cold once it reached Nick. He shivered while flicking through the day old newspaper at the kitchen table. The clock struck half past one and the house was quiet. Outside he could hear the songs of birds; Ellis had left the doors to the garden open on purpose. Nick took another sip of his coffee and swallowed some of his pills to go with it. There was breakfast ready for him on one of the counters but the man had only given it as much as a glance.

  
He read only the headlines in the paper; he didn’t have the energy nor patience to submerge himself any deeper than that. However, one article caught his attention enough to read the next few lines after the headline. “Seven years since the end of the Green Flu plague.” The lump in his throat grew bigger as he kept reading. “Next week marks the seven year anniversary of when the devastating plague, Green Flu, was successfully eradicated by the brave efforts of CEDA and the military of the United States of America”. He couldn’t stand reading another word of that bullshit. The mug, which Nick had been gripping tighter during the time he read, was sent flying across the room. It slammed into the wall next to the microwave and smashed into a few pieces. He then swept the newspaper down onto the floor.  
“That’s a load of crap.” He muttered to himself. CEDA might as well have been the cause of the outbreak, and the military had left them all to die in the godforsaken city that had taken them seven years to rebuild.  


  
The sound of a key turning in the front door’s lock startled him.  
“I’m home.” The voice was familiar, tired but calm and friendly. Nick turned around to face Ellis. He was carrying grocery bags in both hands which he put down before taking his shoes off. “You okay?”  
“Yeah, sure.” Nick replied. He turned towards the glass doors again, mindlessly staring out at their garden.  
“I thought you could use some fresh air.” The man explained and gave Nick a halfhearted smile while unpacking the bags.  
“Uhu…” Nick nodded, not sure to what he just agreed with. ”We’re having people over?” he continued when he saw the that the food Ellis took out would be an abundance for just the two of them.  
“Yes, tomorrow. I told you.” Ellis glanced over at Nick. There was still a faint hint of worry left in Ellis' eyes, but these days he usually looked as weary as Nick did when they’d first met.  
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”  
“It’s just Coach, Ro and Dave.” Ellis helped him out. He hated it whenever he made Nick look like a fool. He always thought of Nick as some sort of indestructible force back in the days, he didn’t want to let go of that image. It suited the older man too well; and it served as a comfort.  
“Yeah, I know. I remember.” Nick lied, still looking out towards the garden. It was green and the grass was a bit on the tall side. It was hard for Ellis to do most of the housework himself and the garden had become last priority. The weeds were flourishing back there.  
“Are you still up for cooking?” Ellis asked while looking for some of their cook books.  
“I said I’d do it, didn’t I?” Nick looked back and smiled his usual crooked smile that somehow made him look even more worn out. Ellis smiled back, carefully now and then stepped over to Nick to give him a hug. That was as far as they went nowadays. They’d been sleeping in separate beds the last two years; Ellis had grown tired of Nick constantly being up and about “keeping watch” and Nick had been kicked in the gut too many times when Ellis had thrashed and screamed in his sleep. The hug lasted a long time and when Ellis let go his brows were drawn together, Nick hardly noticed. He didn’t notice much anymore.

  


The next day Nick followed through with his promise. He cooked a meal for five people instead of just two. The warm air blew into the kitchen once again and it smelled of freshly cut grass.  
“We’ll eat in the garden today.” Ellis had said earlier that morning as he dragged Nick out of bed. “I won’t let you sleep this day away.” He’d said. “And why don’t you shave later, it’d look… better.” Nick was stirring the wooden spoon through the food in the sauce pan, staring blankly ahead. He had shaved and showered but he didn’t feel any cleaner. It’d been seven years but somehow he could sometimes still feel the sharp, coppery smell of blood on his hands. The scars on his hands, arms, shoulders, back, torso and legs wouldn’t go away even after a thousand more showers. His hand went to his neck; he ran his fingers over it. The skin created little to no friction when his fingertips went the distance from jaw to collarbone. There was no hair growing in the numb area and the skin was paler than the rest of his body’s. Nick told himself that it was less visible whenever he’d shaved, but it really wasn’t. The scarred skin was hard to cover up and he tried his best not to look at the bathroom mirror whenever he was in there. He hated to look at himself. It made him feel even more broken, or maybe the reason he got angry was because it gave away just how broken he actually was. Something he couldn’t cover up with his usual facades and lies.  
“You’re gonna burn that.” Ellis voice made Nick snap back into reality. He looked down and sure enough the food had gone from a slow putter to a more or less violent boiling. He quickly pulled the pan away from the stove and glared at Ellis. Nick knew it wasn’t his fault.  
“I’ve got it.” He snarled and Ellis took a step back, eyes narrowing.  
“Do you?” There was a chill to his voice that Nick rarely heard, but hated nonetheless.  
“Yeah.” Nick’s voice was hard, not budging.  
“Fine, whatever you say. Just don’t screw it up.” Ellis turned and walked out to tend to the garden again.  
Nick threw the spoon into the sink, both relieved and irritated that there wasn’t anything else in the sink, anything that could smash into pieces.

  


He and Ellis had another cup of coffee before their guests would arrive. Ellis sipped slowly on his while Nick was watching from the brim of his mug. The man across from him was either deep in thoughts himself or pretended not to see him. Nick hoped for the former. He would surely be a goner the second Ellis walked out that door. He knew that much. After the end of the world nothing had come easy for Nick, but he’d felt an ease around the younger man. Something familiar, something that had lasted through the end and something that had made it out from the same hell as him. At least parts of them had made it out. Not enough. Not enough for a steady foundation. Nothing solid enough to be built upon. While they’d been spending the last seven years trying to hammer themselves into the ground surrounded by a white picket fence, the foundation had been sinking deeper into the mud and blood beneath them. It was everything Nick had. He was drowning.  
“You know I love you, right?” Nick spoke lowly, just loud enough for Ellis to catch it. He looked up from the table.  
“Yeah.” Ellis replied without much thought. Nick looked down into his mug before lighting a cigarette.  
“Please don’t do that in here.” Ellis sighed. “It’s gonna smell.” Nick knew Ellis would rather he’d not smoke at all. He got up from the chair and walked to the porch leading out to the garden. The table was already set, although Nick couldn’t quite remember when Ellis had done that. There was a blue and green checkered table cloth hanging over the table, it swayed lightly when the faint winds caught its edges. He inhaled. There was a time when every smoke filled breath put him more and more at ease. Now all he could feel was his skin slowly turning to ashes and the tar seep into his lunges and deeper still. His hands were shaking, every breath was ragged. He stared at the sky for a while, noted that the sun was shining yet everything in his field of vision seemed bleak and washed out. He went back inside after he’d put out the cigarette and continued with the cooking.  
“Now when they arrive…-“ Ellis started but Nick cut him off.  
“Best behavior. I know.” They sounded like an old damaged record repeating itself over and over. Maybe Ellis heard it too, since he got quiet while folding his hands nervously in his lap.

  


The shrill ring of the door bell made Nick, by instinct, reach to his side with his hand. Where his fingers would have gripped a gun all those years ago there was now only thin air. His heart skipped another beat before Ellis walked past him and opened the front door. Nick took a couple of deep breaths to calm down enough to enter the hallway. In front of the door two familiar figures were taking their shoes off.  
“It’s so good to see you again, Ellis.” Rochelle’s voice was lighter than Nick ever expected it to be, and it surprised him every time. “And you too, of course, Nick.” She smiled when she saw Nick in the archway. Nick gave her the sort of smile he never gave cashiers in grocery stores, nor passerby’s on the street. It was the smile he saved for special people, a smile that still carried some fragment of warmth. Like slowly dying embers in an abandoned bonfire. He walked over to the group and Rochelle hugged him tightly.  
“You’re skin and bones.” It was merely a whisper, something they’d talked about before. “Sorry.”  
There was an embrace from Coach, simultaneously, and then Ellis joined in as well. Nick took a deep breath. It was all so familiar, and he couldn’t make up his mind if that was comforting or terrifying. The sound of rifles and screams would echo through his ears, the biting cold would eat away at his skin as they huddled up in the snow, the blood of his friends on his hands. He broke off the hug.  
“Glad you could make it.” He said.  
They led them through the living room and onto the porch were the four of them took their seats.  
“We’re just waiting for Dave.” Ellis explained while Nick poured some water for their guests, with as much precision his trembling hands allowed. “He should be here any minute.”

  


The four of them talked about as many things they could that wouldn’t rip old wounds open. Rochelle said she’d finally managed to recover some old documents she thought she'd lost forever all those years ago. Coach showed pictures of his dog that had grown from puppy to a real beast. Ellis insisted that a hound like that would be perfect for Nick and him, and Nick turned him down over and over. They didn’t live far away from each other, just a couple of streets down. They all knew how little they’d seen of each other still. Ellis usually did the shopping at the local store, occasionally he’d show up at Rochelle or Coach’s door for a quick visit. Nick didn’t leave the house that often. Nick didn’t leave the bed that often. Most days he was too tired or scared to even move from underneath the blankets. Another ring from the bell startled everyone in the group. Nick felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one. Ellis got up and hurried to the front door.  
“Gonna have to change that doorbell.” He joked as he went through the living room. Everyone around the table knew they wouldn’t mind.

  


After a few minutes he had Dave’s arm in his hand, slowly leading his friend out to the garden. Dave’s cane slowly tapped a few objects along the way, seeking out obstacles for him where his eyes failed. Coach pulled out a chair for him and Ellis showed him to his seat.  
“Glad you could make it, buddy.” Ellis smiled.  
“Me too.” Dave replied, also smiling, with his eyes fixed a bit to the right of Ellis.  
“Well, no need to keep waiting, I bet all ya’ll are hungry by now. I know I am.” The man almost chuckled. “Nick’s been doing the cooking so it ought to be delicious.”  
Ellis had truly missed Nick’s meals. It had been months since he’d had any of his food.  
“I bet!” Coach encouraged them and started to scoop the food onto his plate. Rochelle put some more food on Nick’s plate, to the man’s disapproval, before passing the pan and bowl to Ellis. He helped Dave and then got to his own plate.  
“Now we’re gonna say grace.” Ellis stated. There was a low groan from Nick that got shut down my a glare from Ellis.  
“Sorry, of course, go on.” Nick excused himself. Part of him was just plain irritated. The bigger part was jealous of Ellis for being able to still have his faith. To still believe there was something good left in the world. To still believe in _anything_. The envy grew within Nick, turned to spite in his gut like many times before. _How come he’s got such an easier time with this? How come he’s not this much of a wreck? It’s not fair._ Nick gripped the fork tighter and returned just in time to mutter an “amen” through gritted teeth.

  


They ate, and they laughed as good as they could. Nick couldn’t understand how. Rochelle with half of her left arm missing, Coach looking closer to 65 than 50, Dave with scars from acid and clouded eyes and Ellis with his constant limp. They were broken people, all of them. It was beyond Nick how they could still sit there around the table and laugh. He knew there was something wrong with him from even before the apocalypse, but he didn’t imagine things to be like this. All of the people around him being better off than him, and every one of them looking at him with pity. _Well, everyone except for Dave_. He knew he’d get a punch in the face if Ellis ever heard him say something like that. The chit chats and laughter was mind numbing, he couldn’t think. He took another bite of the food and felt sick to his stomach, swallowing hard to keep it all down.  
“So how are you doing, Nicholas?” Coach asked and Nick barely registered the question. First of all he hated it whenever someone called him that, something people seemed to have a hard time understanding.  
“It’s Nick.” He replied shortly.  
“Nick, please.” Ellis pleaded while searching for the man’s hand underneath the table. Nick swatted it away.  
“And I’m evidentially not doing as good as you lot.” He snapped.  
“Nick…!” Ellis’ irritation grew.  
“It’s okay, Nicholas, we think you’re doing good.”  
“Don’t call me that!” Nick stood up from the table and the chair tipped backwards with a loud crash as it hit the deck beneath them. “And anyone with eyes can see that I’m not!”  
“Okay, that’s enough!” Ellis took his hand in a hard grip and pulled him towards the house.

  


Nick sat in the bedroom he and Ellis had once shared, his back leaned against his bed. Downstairs Ellis was saying good bye to Rochelle, Coach and Dave. Apologizing for Nick’s rude behavior, saying that if not for his outburst they all had a good time. That they should do it again sometime soon. The door shut and a set of heavy footsteps walked up the stairs. Ellis opened the partially shut door. He had that disappointed look on his face again, the one he never gave pharmacists behind the counter nor wore on days when work days didn’t pay enough. It was the expression he saved for special people, people like Nick. Only Nick.  
“You did it again.” He sighed, no energy to fight. Nick couldn’t bother to look guilty. He never quite understood why they did those sorts of things anyway, at least not why he had to be part of it.  
“You always do shitty things like these, Nick.”  
He didn’t mean to disappoint Ellis like that, it just sort of happened. Always. He couldn’t keep things together like the rest of them. He just couldn’t get it to work.  
“I’m sorry.” Ellis truly deserved better than him. “I didn’t mean to.” Someone who didn’t screw up as much as he did. Someone who could give something back. Someone who ate the breakfast he’d made. Someone who’d appreciate the fresh air from the open glass doors to the garden.  
“I didn’t mean what I said…” Nick looked down; he couldn’t bear that look on Ellis face. “I’m sorry, for what I said about Dave.”  
“That was really low, even for you, Nick.” The spite in Ellis’ voice was thick enough to taste. “There are things like this that makes me happy we’re already in separate beds.” He then turned to go to his own room.

  


Nick couldn’t sleep, the pills didn’t help either. He’d opened and closed the drawer in the bedside table at least two dozen times before picking the gun up. It was the same he’d carried when they’d made it out of the military base. The very same gun he’d shot that Captain right between the eyes with. Now he pointed it at the same spot but with his own head as the target. He flipped the safety on and off. On and off, on and- He was scared. Like so many nights before this one. Like so many nights to come. Off. He put the gun back down in the drawer.  
“You’re such a coward.”

  


The next morning Ellis was gone again, working, since it was a Monday. Nick took another sip of his coffee and swallowed his pills, one after the other, _pop, pop, pop_. The clock on the wall struck half past one. It ticked slowly; _tick-tock, tick-tock_.  
On and off, on and off, on and-


End file.
